CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
DETECTIVE WICK SAT at his desk with a fresh cup of coffee on Wednesday morning, May the second, and opened Amelia’s journal for the first time.
“She starts each year with a brand-new book,” Patricia had advised him. “So that one has to be the most recent. I mean, look at it. It’s still in pristine condition.”
Sure enough, Wick had discovered “2012” in small delicate script written on both the inside cover and across the top of the first page when he’d opened the journal. He settled in and began to read.
It didn’t take him long at all to find some very troubling passages. The entries seemed routine, almost mundane, until he reached the one dated February eighth, when Amelia made note of an unfamiliar item in the hall closet of her Fort Worth home.
That one made his c
